January 4-10, 2021: Poetry from Bill Gainer and Emily Vieweg

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Bill Gainer

Bill Gainer is a storyteller, humorist, an award winning poet, and a maker of mysterious things. He earned his BA from St. Mary’s College and his MPA from the University of San Francisco. He is the publisher of the PEN Award winning R. L. Crow Publications and is the ongoing host of Red Alice’s Poetry Emporium (Grass Valley, CA). Gainer is internationally published in such journals and magazines as: Poems for All, The Huffington Post, Sacramento News and Review, The Tule Review, Lummox Press, River Dog Zine #1, The Oregonian, Chiron Review, Sacramento Bee, Cultural Weekly, Rose of Sharon, and numerous others. His latest book is: “The Mysterious Book of Old Man Poems.” Gainer is known across the country for giving fun filled performances. Visit him in his books, at his personal appearances, or at his website: billgainer.com.

The following work is Copyright © 2021, and owned by Bill Gainer and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

The Girl with Long Fingers

Just watching her
kiss the berry juice
from the tip of a fingers
is enough
almost.

 

The Art of Growing Cacti

My cactus has become a monster.
I have no idea how to prune it
or even if you are supposed to.
It had flowers this year
for like three days.
I think it loves me
but not that much.

Emily Vieweg

 
Emily Vieweg is a poet originally from St. Louis, Missouri. Her debut full length poetry collection “but the flames” is available for pre-order from Finishing Line Press (mailing date 1/22/2021). Her previous collection is Conversations with Beethoven and Bach. Emily’s work has been published in Soundings Review, Art Young’s Good Morning, Proximity Magazine, Indolent Books “What Rough Beast,” and more. She lives in Fargo, North Dakota where she is a mother of two and office assistant. Visit Emily on the web here.

The following work is Copyright © 2021, and owned by Emily Vieweg and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Sometimes

when I begin a poem with sometimes I really mean
always. I mean, sometimes always means

never, like when you ask again
if I still love onions, I say

always, but never do I say
never, because sometimes my food choices

offend you, always when you’re
sometimes doing the cooking… so you say,

“Sometimes I just hate you”
I mean, sometimes people offend me too, like

the white dude, it’s always a white dude, sometimes
the white dude wears a backwards ball cap,

it’s always backwards, and the white dude
calls 911 over brown people,

it’s always over brown people,
just living,

like when Jordan sold water in San Francisco,
or when Reggie mowed lawns in Ohio,

or when Rashon and Donte sat in a
Philadelphia Starbucks, it’s always a Starbucks.

So sometimes I get offended, usually
mostly when I’m venting about money,

it’s always about money, diapers or allergies, and
some white girl, it’s always a white girl, sometimes a

white girl wearing a kimono and infinity scarf,
it’s always an infinity scarf,

sometimes a white girl tries to palm
me some random essential oils,

it’s always essential oils.
And sometimes I maybe get tired of hearing

about the latest keto diet craze,
it’s always a diet craze, and sometimes

maybe I get angry and frustrated and hyped
over something I saw on facebook,

it’s always facebook, so
I have to turn it off to keep my head.

So obviously, this is a little thing,
it’s always the little things, but little things

become big things, at least, sometimes.
Sometimes maybe means yes, mostly might

mean maybe, and almost maybe means maybe
not, and never does the

white dude in the backwards ball cap,
it’s always a ball cap,

never does the white dude call
911 for anything, like calling

911 on Brock Turner,
Harvey Weinstein,

Brett Kavanaugh,
and even if the

white dude
wearing the backwards

ball cap does call
911 on a Brock

or a Harvey
or a Brett,

it’s always a Brock
or a Harvey or a Brett,

even when the
911 call comes for something

real, the
white accused,

he’s always the accused,
goes to court, maybe,

sometimes, mostly
always with a high-

retainer lawyer, and mostly,
usually, sometimes,

maybe, they’ll get off
(they always get off).

I understand that sometimes it’s confusing.

I mean, like I said,
you say that

sometimes you
just hate me.

But never will you offend me
by saying that sometimes you

hate me, because you could never
hate me, even sometimes, the way I

always sometimes wonder if I
am sometimes,

even a little,
mostly

worth that.